Skyborn

by Lou Anders

  The summit was obviously their destination.

  Thianna felt an odd sensation, like wasps buzzing around her ears. She swatted with her hands, but the feeling wasn’t in the air. It was in her mind. It didn’t take her long to identify the cause.

  Wyverns. The space over the city was full of wyverns. They circled the island, taking off and landing constantly from an overhang at the top of the precipice. There was no doubt that they were approaching the hub of the Thican Empire.

  When Thianna had first encountered the Horn of Osius, it had awakened her ability to communicate telepathically with the reptiles. Being in a dragon’s mind had enhanced that ability. She looked upward to one of the four wyverns carrying them.

  Hello, she thought.

  What?

  The way its head whipped around was almost comical.

  Is that you?

  Yes. I’m saying hello.

  No, I mean. Is that you? The half-breed that found the horn. The one they call Frostborn.

  That’s me.

  Karn recognized the look of concentration on Thianna’s face. He tapped Desstra and pointed first at the frost giant and then at the wyvern. Desstra nodded.

  The cause and solution of our troubles. They say you destroyed one horn. Have you come to destroy another?

  That’s the plan.

  If you don’t mind my saying, you’re doing a rousing job of it so far.

  Ah, thought Thianna. I see you’re just as warm and cuddly as other wyverns I’ve known.

  The creature hissed at her.

  I don’t have to be warm. I’m not warm-blooded.

  Fair point. What is this place? she asked.

  The humans call it the city of Caldera.

  Because it’s in a caldera. That’s kind of on the nose, don’t you think?

  You aren’t the most imaginative species. Too busy sticking each other with pointed sticks to do much else.

  Speak for yourself.

  I am speaking for myself. How else would I speak?

  Another fair point. So, who are these Calderans?

  This time the wyvern snorted.

  Who are the Calderans? it said. Are you as ignorant as you are big? You are a Calderan.

  “Oh,” said Thianna aloud.

  —

  “You mean we have to go up there?”

  “Up there is exactly where we will go,” his father replied.

  Asterius gazed at the city before him. It looked crowded, confining, disorderly, and…well, awfully high.

  “A proper city would lie flat on a plain,” the boy pronounced, “not bound up the hillside from rock to rock like a goat.”

  Asterius punctuated his words by snorting with enough force to flip the ring in his nose. He glanced around. None of his father’s retinue appeared to share his humor or his concern. He pawed the dirt with a hoof in annoyance.

  “Things are not always like they are at home,” his father replied patiently. “The Calderans live differently than we do, but they depend on the agriculture of our plains to survive.”

  “Then why don’t they come to us instead of demanding we come to them?” Asterius asked.

  The king gave a nervous chuckle, then reached a hand between Asterius’s two horns to pat his son on the head.

  “You are proud, I know,” his father said, “And that is a good thing. But remember that it is those same virtues that make a minotaur great that can lead to his undoing. It is a fascinating conundrum.”

  Asterius shook his head to dislodge his father’s palm. He didn’t want an ethics lecture. And he didn’t want to be treated like a child. He wanted a sword and a shield, like the bull men and kine women around him. He would be thirteen soon. It was time they treated him like a warrior.

  He regurgitated his breakfast. Ruminating usually helped him calm down, but today chewing the soft cud did nothing for his agitation.

  The minotaurs had traveled all the way from their city in the southern grasslands to be here. They were a small band of only ten—his father (who was the king of Labyrinthia), eight of the king’s most trusted warrior-advisors (you didn’t get to be the one without being the other), and his son (reluctantly). It was Asterius’s first trip to the capital city of Thica. So far he wasn’t impressed.

  Things became grudgingly interesting, however, when they reached the land bridge that would carry them across the caldera’s lake to the island-city. A party of Talosians had arrived just ahead of them. Asterius had never seen the bronze automatons before. He wondered what it would be like never having to eat or sleep. Did they even feel the sun and wind upon their faces? And could it be true that they had clockwork springs and gears instead of blood and bone? How could such creatures live?

  More travelers joined them as they crossed the narrow strip of rock and entered the city proper through its south gate. Asterius repressed a shudder as the buildings rose up around them and the ground began to ascend. He tossed his horns and squared his shoulders. If none of his father’s warrior-advisors showed fear, he wouldn’t either.

  He studied everything as they walked. The streets here weren’t as wide as those at home, and they were less well maintained. It was easy to turn a hoof if you weren’t careful. And while the heart of Labyrinthia was at its center, as was right and good, here it was clear that buildings and people gained in importance as you climbed the rock. He looked at the faces of the folk staring at them from the doorways and windows of dwellings and shops. They were mostly human and dwarven, though only the dwarves carried weapons.

  “So these are the Calderans?” he asked his father. “I thought they would be more warlike.”

  “Oh no,” replied the king. “Most of these are not Calderan.”

  Asterius swished his tail in confusion.

  “But isn’t this the city of Caldera? Who are all these people?”

  “At least half the folk you see here are what you’d call helots,” his father said. “They are a slave class, owned by the state. Calderan women aren’t allowed to do any work other than soldiery. So their businesses and industries are overseen by their men and run by their slaves. But the helots are allowed to keep a part of their labor, and they can only be killed at certain times of the year.”

  Asterius snorted again.

  “Oh, that’s much better than a regular slave.”

  “Then there’s the perioikoi,” his father continued, ignoring his sarcasm. “Freedmen and freedwomen who serve their military as blacksmiths, caretakers, and auxiliary troops. These are mostly dactyls. Dwarves are always good with metalwork and smithing.”

  “So where are the actual Calderans?” Asterius asked. His father pointed up.

  “The Calderans themselves are less than a quarter of the population,” said the king. “And of that, only the women are allowed to hold any rank or position. It’s a pyramid system, like the city itself, with a few people on top supported by the larger blocks below.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Asterius. “How can you have a city where almost nobody’s a real citizen?”

  “I admit it seems strange,” said the king. “I suppose we could say that it’s another fascinating conundrum.”

  Asterius snorted. “It’s just strange,” he said. “Wait until I tell my friends when we get home.”

  “Home, yes,” said his father. King Asterion looked at his son like he had something more he wanted to say.

  “What is it, Father?”

  “Best not speculate where I don’t know,” replied the king. Asterius would have pressed him to say more, but then they reached the summit of the hill and his jaw had dropped too wide to speak.

  —

  The phoreion descended toward a circular landing platform. It was one of five, each at the end of a walkway that extended over the cliff face.

  “What is that?” said Karn. Thianna followed his finger to what looked like a life-sized game board with spectator seating on opposite sides. It was laid out in marble slabs in a courtyard between two palaces, just v
isible in their line of sight.

  “What do you know? Looks like you might find some fellow gamers here.”

  “Hopefully someone who can give me a real challenge for a change,” he replied.

  “I think I resent that,” said the frost giant.

  “I know I do,” Desstra added.

  Karn continued to stare at the oversize game board with rapt curiosity until, as they approached the ground, the surrounding buildings blocked his view. The wyverns set them down on one platform, then moved to adjacent ones so that attendants could see to the returning soldiers and their mounts. A soldier unlocked the phoreion.

  “Get out,” she said curtly.

  “Manners,” said Thianna.

  “Now,” ordered the soldier.

  “But we were having so much fun,” said the giantess, climbing onto the ground. As she stretched to her full height, she smiled to see the woman’s eyes widen.

  The view off the sides of the narrow walkway might have been daunting to any but an Ymirian. Thianna glanced casually at a steep slope that fell away for hundreds of feet to where waves broke on sharp rocks in the waters below. Another might have been intimidated, but she merely felt relieved to be stretching her legs after a day and a night of confinement. Karn walked beside her. He kept his face guarded, but she could tell he was studying all the angles of their new environment, looking for advantages and weaknesses. Karn could size up territory like the checkered squares of a Thrones and Bones game board. Desstra followed behind them, quiet and alert. Whatever the elf’s thoughts, they were hidden behind her quartz lenses.

  An impressive number of soldiers, all with fire lances aimed their way, stood awaiting their arrival. One woman, her face covered in a full helmet, wore a black cape draped over her shoulders as an obvious sign of rank. She stepped forward. Thianna saw that she moved with a slight limp.

  “We will have no trouble from you this time,” she said in a commanding tone.

  Thianna grinned.

  “Looks like you’ve heard of us,” she said.

  “Heard of you?” The woman sounded surprised. “Don’t you know who I am?”

  Desstra spoke up. “No, why?” she said. “Have you forgotten?” Despite her misgivings concerning the elf, this drew a grin from the frost giant. Not so much the soldier. The woman frowned at the sarcasm. She glared at the elf, then she lifted off her helmet.

  “Do you know me now?”

  “Yes, unfortunately,” said Thianna, fist clenching. “You’re that woman who’s going to regret getting on my bad side.”

  Beside her, Karn and Desstra tensed as well, but their weapons had been taken from them. Of course, they all recognized the scarred face of the soldier the instant her face was revealed—the cause of their current troubles. She had been the only one of Sydia’s team to survive the adventure in Norrøngard. She had followed Thianna first to Castlebriar and then Gordasha. Disguised as a wandering wizard, she had helped them in their quest. But when they had succeeded, she had snatched the horn away from them in their moment of triumph, forcing Thianna to trade it for Desstra’s life.

  “My name is Leta,” the soldier explained. “As much history as we have together, it’s right you should know that.”

  “Leta,” said Thianna slowly, tasting the name of her enemy for the first time.

  “You’ve been promoted since we saw you last,” said Karn, jutting his chin at the ranks of soldiers behind her.

  The woman smiled.

  “I have you two to thank for that, you three, really. If you hadn’t cared so much about the life of this little elf.”

  Desstra’s ears dropped. She was ashamed to be reminded. And to have Thianna reminded. The frost giant still resented that she had been forced to give up the horn to save a former enemy.

  “When I returned with the Horn of Osius,” Leta continued, “I was celebrated. They made me the Head of the Guard for the Keras Keeper.”

  Thianna shrugged. “I could pretend to be impressed. But I don’t know what a Keras Keeper is.”

  “The one who will blow the horn at the Great Hatching. The Keras Guard protects the Keras Keeper.”

  “Ah, a trumped-up bodyguard,” said Thianna. “How nice for you.”

  “It is,” Leta replied. “Though not, I think, for you three. The queens want to meet you.”

  “Queens?” asked Thianna. “Don’t you mean queen?”

  “I mean queens, plural,” said Leta. “Come along, this way. At the very least, I think it will be instructive for you to see who you have been defying.” She beckoned to several soldiers, who fell in around the three companions.

  Karn, Thianna, and Desstra were marched from the landing platform. They saw that the two palaces up ahead were separate wings of a larger, three-building structure. The magnificent marble walls were covered in elaborate carvings and surrounded by tall columns supporting triangular roofs. Before one palace was the statue of a wyvern. Before the other, a strange creature that appeared to be half horse, half rooster. They were heading for the middle building adjoining the two.

  “Welcome,” said Leta, “to the Twin Palaces, and to the Court of Land and Sky.”

  “It’s sort of like a Jarl’s longhouse back home,” Karn observed, looking around the Court of Land and Sky and comparing it to the wood and turf constructions of his own land. “A big open room, just like home—check.” Indeed, the room was enormous, with marble columns holding up an arched roof. “Fire pits—check.” Two large round pits blazed with flame. Their smoke curled upward to holes placed in the ceiling. “A throne at one end. Well, actually, two thrones—check, check.” Two marble thrones stood upon a single dais at the far end of the room. Each was accessible from its own staircase that led up from the floor. Another pair of staircases wound down from balconies to either side. “It’s a Jarl’s longhouse. Just like home.”

  “Sure,” replied Thianna, glancing around at the ornately carved statues and the bizarre assortment of beings crowded into the room. “Only, made of marble. Painted in gaudy colors. Full of strange creatures. Ruled by our enemies.”

  “Okay, maybe not so much like home after all,” Karn said.

  “I don’t know,” said Desstra. “Power-hungry leaders pushing everyone else around. Sounds like home to me.”

  The three watched as the various groups of people and creatures assembled inside the court. In addition to human beings, Thianna noticed strange, bronze-skinned folk and large, one-eyed creatures who resembled deformed giants. She saw the horned and hoofed people called satyrs, and even stranger things.

  “Look,” said Karn. He pointed at a group of beings who appeared like human women but had actual fire for hair.

  Their escort paused. Leta turned to face them.

  “We will wait here until the queen—excuse me, until the queens—call for us,” she said. “But I am warning you, give us no trouble.” She glared at Desstra. “Especially you, little elf.”

  “I just want you to know,” Desstra replied, smiling sweetly, “that I am going to pay you back in full one day.”

  The Keras Guard’s hand dropped to the pommel of her sword.

  “Probably not today, though,” Desstra added hastily.

  Leta relaxed her hand and turned to face the front of the room.

  “All hail,” called a herald standing before the thrones. “Queen Xalthea and Queen Melantha approach.”

  “Two queens,” said Karn.

  “Is the extra in case one breaks?” asked Thianna.

  “You would know this had your mother been loyal,” Leta said over her shoulder. “Though I suppose you would not exist, then. Caldera is a diarchal matriarchy.”

  “That’s just a fancy way of saying it has two queens,” Desstra said.

  “Then why didn’t she just say that?” asked the giantess. “Do they give out points for using big words?”

  “Xalthea is Queen of the Sky,” Leta continued, ignoring them. “Melantha is Queen of the Land. Together, they rule all of Thica.�
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  “And if they ever get into an argument?” ask Thianna. “Who wins?”

  “Oh, we have a wonderful system for handling that. Maybe we’ll show you sometime.” The soldier glanced at Karn. “You in particular would appreciate it, I think.”

  Karn was about to ask why that was, but then two figures strode out onto the balconies flanking the thrones and all attention turned their way.

  Thianna found it remarkable how the two women could look so similar and so different at the same time. They both moved with a regal bearing, they both had the dark hair and olive skin of the Thican people, they both commanded attention. But the woman on the left had a cruel air about her. Queen Xalthea reminded the frost giant a little bit of Sydia, her enemy who had ultimately perished with the first horn in the jaws of the dragon Orm, while the woman on the right seemed softer. If not kind, at least Queen Melantha did not appear overtly malicious.

  “Your monarchs will now accept your tribute,” the herald proclaimed.

  A party of satyrs came forward. They presented the queens with bouquets of flowers wrought in gold. Neither monarch seemed very impressed, but the Land Queen thanked them. Next the strange metal people gave the two monarchs a clockwork mechanism they said was for calculating the tides. Karn thought that sounded useful and wished he could see it better. Thianna’s attention, however, was jumping all over the court.

  “My mother,” she whispered. “Could she have stood in this very room?”

  The trouble started when the group of flame-haired women—they were called empusa, and Thianna gathered from the looks they were drawing that they were bad news—tried to present a statue to the queens as a gift. It was a remarkably lifelike stone carving that depicted a man with a bull’s head. He held a large, double-bladed ax in both hands, readying it as if about to strike.

  “That’s a minotaur,” Karn explained. “I’ve heard stories about them.”

  “Minnow what?” asked Thianna.

  “Minotaur.”

  “Halt this obscenity!” a voice roared.

  “Who dares speak?” The herald scanned the assemblage for the source of the interruption.